


Naughty Kitty's Present

by otherwiseestella



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort, Crossdressing, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Filth, Fluff, Kitty play, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Pee, Watersports, Wetting, kitty litter, knickers, wet sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-20
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 09:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1342132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otherwiseestella/pseuds/otherwiseestella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Q has one too many 'accidents', Bond takes preventative action, Q learns how to be a good kitty, and things get very, very dirty...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naughty Kitty's Present

Q had always had a little problem with managing the toilet. At 25, as Quartermaster, he was, alas, no closer to being potty-trained than when he had been a little boy. And it wasn’t that he was stupid: no. He could have learnt to control his bladder any time he wanted, But where would the fun in that be? Where was the fun in using the porcelain potty for peeing in, like a boring person? Life was far, far more exciting with an element of unpredictability: you never knew when the urge was going to strike – in the cinema, in the car, at work, in the kitchen – or even sitting in your boyfriend’s lap! No, Q was just fine, thank you, and liked his life exactly the way it was. Better still, James actively liked him doing it, and wearing the pretty knickers and pretty dresses that made him feel like himself, like he should, like he *belonged*. 

So imagine his shock the day he came in from tinkering in the 'laboratory' (glorified shed, really) at the bottom of the garden, to find his boyfriend waiting for him behind the front door. He was standing tall, still in his work clothes, and he looked absolutely gorgeous. Q felt a little twitch of interest from between his legs. But what was this? The agent looked so… stern. He cocked his head at him, and smiled his most winning smile:

‘What is it, sweetheart?’

But James didn’t smile back at him. Instead he said: ‘On your knees, Q.’

He looked around. There was nothing soft to kneel on except the small blue doormat. He knelt down. His pretty dress was going to get so rumpled sitting like this. It settled over the backs of his bare legs, and he could feel the cold air of the hallways against his little cotton knickers. He did hope this wasn’t going to take long… he was beginning to feel the stirrings of his bladder. He’d had three cups of tea earlier, and forgotten to go to the loo before driving home. Silly boy. It was catching up with his now, though, but he didn’t dare wriggle under his fierce gaze.

‘You’ve had one too many accidents around here recently, young man.’

He wondered which ones he was referring to… he’d woken up in the night two nights ago, his bladder swollen and heavy. He’d wanted to wet himself in bed. He’d wanted to soak the cotton, feel a puddle under his bottom… but James had an important mission the next day. He hadn’t wanted to wake him in case he was cross instead of aroused by the show. 

Instead, he had slipped out of the bed and had slid the bottom drawer of the chest of drawers open. It was full of his boyfriend’s underwear, all neatly folded and arranged by colour. It was so pretty! 

He had squatted beside it, feeling he weight of his urgency pushing down, sending tingles of arousal up his spine. He wanted to mess up his drawer. He wanted to mess that drawer up so badly! He wanted to wet himself, piss his knickers sitting in the drawer, rubbing his soaking wet crotch over all his nice clean things! 

He slipped the drawer loose from the chest, and positioned it on the carpet. Straddling it, he had lowered his crotch right in so that his cock was up tight against the clean cotton. He slipped one hand down into the front of his knickers. God he was wet. His fingers slid through his pre-cum, and he could feel his cock throbbing. He was panting with excitement, breath coming fast and shallow. God he felt naughty, pissing his little knickers in the middle of the night, all over his nice clean clothes. 

He rubbed one finger over his little pee-hole, teasing himself, and then – suddenly- it came. God, he had been desperate. And there it was, a hot river, spilling over his finger and into his thin cotton knickers. The heat of it, and the naughtiness, were extraordinary, made him grind forward against a pile of his pants.

Oh, god, the stream was hard. He couldn’t stop – not even if he’d wanted to, releasing a hissing stream that soaked his knickers instantly and flowed out, all over his pants. He was ruining them, utterly soaking them with his stream, pissing all over them as if the didn’t know any better. 

He had rubbed up hard against them, fucking himself against the sodden cotton. There was a thin stream of pee still running out from his knickers, and when he came, he pushed down hard enough to let the last of it out in a forceful spurt. He came so hard he saw stars, through the last stream, turning it milky-white and then crawled back into bed, leaving his wet knickers in the drawer, and drying off his damp cock against the sheets.

Perhaps that was what he had meant? He had been very cross. Q felt his tummy go hot and fizzy at the memory of it.

Bond went on: ‘the only way to teach you a lesson is by regulating where you pee.’

No. He thought. Not toilets. Not boring, impersonal bathrooms? He wouldn’t do it. 

James must have seen his crestfallen expression, because he bent toward him, lifting his chin up with his finger.

‘Now, Q, when would I ever do anything horrid to you? This is a nice thing!’

Then, from behind his back, he pulled out a little sparkly… necklace? No, it wasn’t. It was soft and round and…

It was a kitty collar.

He smiled up at him. He was going to…? No, he couldn’t work it out.

‘See, Q? You’re going to be my little kitty, if you want to be. And you know where little kitties do their naughty business, don’t you?’

He shook his head. He had no idea – outside? No, he surely wasn’t going to make him go outside every single time… he had to go pee so often!

‘Well, sweetheart, they do their naughty business in…. let me show you.’

He took him by the hand and made him crawl down the hallway, into the living room. The crawling made his bladder wobble, made him whimper in desperation, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, Bond pushed open the living room door and showed him…

 

It was a kitty litter box. A blue, shallow box, large enough for him to go on all fours, filled up with grey cat litter. Beside it, stacked up, were four or five others – enough, he worked out, for nearly every room in the house.

‘Oh, James’, he breathed. They were so perfect. Naughty, and public, and humiliating, but just for him, and provided with love, and the perfect answer to his need to let himself go wherever he was.

‘I love you so, so much’. He felt totally overwhelmed, as if he was about to cry – as if he was about to wet himself. 

He came toward, and pressed up against James From his kneeling position his head was level with his cock. When he rubbed his face against him, too overwhelmed to speak, he realised; Bond was rock hard, throbbing in his pants.

The agent held the back of his head, letting little wet tears prick through the material of his trousers so that he could feel the salty wetness against the tip of his cock. With his other hand, he gently moved his black curly hair so he could slip the collar round his neck, adjusting it loosely into place. He stepped back to get a look at him.

Q looked exquisite: tear-stained but smiling, naughty but vulnerable looking, totally overwhelmed by his gift. He was also… squirming?

‘Q, baby, does someone need to use their new little litter tray?’

He paused, as if thinking about it, bunching his dress in his hands. Then he looked at him, and nodded.

‘I want to go pee-pee’, he said.

He smiled. He was used to it, the way big-boy language often seemed to leave his when he was desperate.

‘Would you like to use your new pee-pee place?’

He smiled and nodded, his cheeks pinking in embarrassment. James felt his cock twitch. He couldn’t wait to see Q kneel over it, make the litter wet and filthy with his piss. 

Q pulled his dress up and crawled toward the litter tray. Bond was expecting him to crawl onto it, to kneel on all fours and pull down his knickers, but he didn’t. Instead, he kept his pink lacy knickers on, and plonked his bottom down in the middle of the tray, splaying his legs out in a ‘v’, bunching his dress up out of the way.

He was facing him, eyes big and wide, showing him his half-hard cock beneath the lacy knickers.

‘I’m going to go wee-wee’, he breathed. ‘I’m going to wet myself like a little kitty, and make a big sticky puddle.’

James was palming his cock through his jeans, desperate to take it out and stroke himself, but knowing he wanted to wait until he could sink it into him.

‘Do you feel naughty, baby, all exposed like that? All naked and bare and about to go in your knickers?’

Q bit his lower lip and blushed brilliant red.

‘Oh’, he squirmed. ‘Its coming, please, its running down into my pee-place, I am going to go in my kitty-potty.’

And then he saw it. The pee suddenly started its glossy trickle out of him, hissing and spilling through the lacy knickers, soaking the gusset until they were see-through.

Then, obscenely, the stream hit the kitty litter. It pooled on the top for a second, creating a puddle that spread from his cock to his knees, and then suddenly, it started to soak in. The grey litter grew dark and soft.

‘I’m making a pee-pee cushion!’ he said, happily, rubbing up and down his soaking knickers.

Bond couldn’t bear it any longer. Suddenly he stood, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them round his knees. His cock was rock hard, red and weeping. Q looked at it, smiling, his fingers rubbing faster through his stream of pee.

‘Little kitty’, he said to him. ‘On your hands and knees, now.’

‘In my litter tray?’ He asked, ‘That’s naughty.’

‘Yes’, he said. ‘Go on, I’m going to put my big cock inside your little bottom-place, kitty, whilst you wet yourself into your tray.’

Q let out a little mewling noise and knelt. As he moved, he dirtied the hem of his pretty dress with drips of pee.

Coming up behind him, James slipped the dress up over his bottom, until his face was close to his lacy knickers. They smelt divine, of his naughty piss, and he ran his finger over them, to make his squirm. Then, he shoved them out of the way, exposing his pretty, dripping cock, sparkly with pee.

‘Kitty, do you have any more pee-pee left?’ He asked.

‘Yes, I still want to go, so badly’ he panted, pushing his little naked arse toward him.

Bond quickly fingered Q. He was glad of the lube they kept under the cushions of the sofa, and Q was so plaint and relaxed that he had soon opened up, pink and eager for the spy’s cock. He kept pushing up against him, mewling. Bond guided himself into him in one, long stroke. He felt exquisite, the wet heat enveloping him.

‘Keep going, Q. Let your piss run down your legs into your tray like a good boy, whilst I fuck you.’

‘Oh, god’, he said as he started to move: long, deep strokes inside him. ‘Oh, my pee-pee feels so hot running down my legs, and you feel so big, oh, please, please, James.’

He fucked him harder, looking down at his piss bouncing off the kitty litter, at his knees all grubby with it. He knew he wasn’t going to last and with one final stroke, he emptied his balls deep inside him, filling his hole up with cum. It made him squeal, the heat and force of it, and it made his pee spray everywhere.

When he pulled out, he looked at his filthy little kitty, piss and cum running down his thighs. ‘Would you like to cum, baby?’

Q nodded, still kneeling in the litter tray. He eased his out until he was lying on the living room carpet.

‘Good kitty’, he whispered, lying close to him, reaching under his knickers to find his aching cock. ‘You can finish your pee-pee on the carpet if you want to. I know how much you like that. You’ve been so good.’

As he touched him, he started to piss again, legs open, wild abandon, letting his stream dirty the cream carpet.

‘You’re a dirty kitty, aren’t you?’. he whispered sweetly to his as he touched his cock, ‘all slippery with your own pee-pee, and my filthy cum in your hole. You know what I think?’ He shook his head, his whole body taut and close to orgasm.

‘I think next time, sweetie, I might join you in your litter tray.’

Q looked at him, wild-eyed as if he hadn’t understood. James picked up the pace, fisting him tightly, feeling the pre-cum bead between his fingers.

‘That’s right, Q. Would you like that? Would you like to squat over your litter tray in front of me, and…’ He bent down to whisper close to his ear, ‘would you like to expose your pretty cock for me, and start peeing, and have me cover you in my piss while you’re doing it for me, darling?’

As he said it, he felt Q cum under him, long and hard and desperate. He was shaking and filthy, his whole body spasming with the filthiness of it.

He looked at him, soiled and spent on the floor. This was going to be very, very good fun.

**Author's Note:**

> *Please don't read if you don't like pee!*
> 
> Written b/c I am filthy & twisted. Feedback always welcome.
> 
> (Probably to be continued...)


End file.
